As Dreams Are Made On
by Linwe Elendil
Summary: If we are the sum of our experiences, where do nightmares fit in? Spoilers for Abyss, Fallen, and a small one for Orpheus. Rated T for violence.


Disclaimer: I still don't own the rights to anything Stargate. :-( This story takes place in season seven – just after the episode _Orpheus_. It includes spoilers for that episode, _Fallen_, and most notably, _Abyss._

"Our revels now are ended. These our actors,  
As I foretold you, were all spirits, and  
Are melted into air, into thin air:  
And like the baseless fabric of this vision,  
The cloud-capp'd tow'rs, the gorgeous palaces,  
The solemn temples, the great globe itself,  
Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve,  
And, like this insubstantial pageant faded,  
Leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff  
_As dreams are made on_; and our little life  
Is rounded with a sleep."

_The Tempest Act Four, Scene 1_ (italics added)

* * *

_Jack slumped down to the floor of his barren cell. His mind was numb, his thoughts far away. A blond woman stood, beckoning to him, but he found himself unable to remember her name. Then her face shifted and split in two. One face was the memory of a stranger – the reason he found himself in this hell. But the other had been carefully etched into his memory over the years. The twinkle in her eye as she smiled. The crease that showed between her eyebrows when she was concentrating on a particularly hard problem. She was brilliant – far more so than anyone but he himself seemed to realize. She was young and vital, despite the abuses her body had suffered over time. How she could be so strong was a mystery to him. As were half the things she said. He had long resigned himself to the fact that her knowledge was like sand slipping through his fingers. If he was lucky, a few grains would remain behind – just enough so that he could come up with something resembling an intelligent response. He knew she thought he didn't listen to her. What she didn't understand was the effect her words had on him. At once making him feel inadequate and reassured. As long as she spoke, there was hope. It was when she fell silent – when she ran out of ideas – that hope began to fade. _

_Two Jaffa came and pulled him from his prison. He let them drag him along as he followed the path of his memories._

_Strange to think that so much was tied to that brilliant mind of hers. The fate of Earth, and the universe, had lain in her hands more often than it should. The strain of that responsibility on her shoulders should have crushed her long ago. And yet, she kept going. He couldn't see how. She was the super-human one, no matter what rare gene he possessed. It should have been given to her. After all, she was the one who knew how to use it. That beautiful, lined face swam before his eyes, and he marveled again at how she could possibly be interested in him. All he did was shoot guns and send people to their deaths. What was there to admire in that? Why did she look at him with that mixture of admiration and love? What had he done to be deserving of it? _

_Another drop of acid seared his skin, this time setting his right cheek on fire. He didn't flinch. Didn't even blink._

_He'd tried to be so careful over the years. He knew the regs – knew that it was bad enough that he was paying too much attention to a woman in his command structure. But she was his second in command! It made him wonder sometimes – in the stillness of the night, when he couldn't sleep – if he would feel the same way about her had they been assigned to separate teams. Then the thought would come to him, of course he wouldn't feel that way about her. He would've been dead a dozen times over! He wouldn't have _felt_ anything! Just like he wished he couldn't now._

_The knife lodged itself firmly into his abdomen, and he felt blood dripping onto the grate below. He idly wondered how much of the stuff he'd poured into the damned sarcophagus already. Jack closed his eyes._

_And found himself face to face with her. Again. She cupped his good cheek in her hand and smiled softly. "I'll find you," she said in a whisper. "I promise." He looked past her momentarily as Daniel appeared over her shoulder._

"_She's doing everything she can, Jack. They all are."_

"_Except you." Jack looked back at her, ignoring his friend. He knew he should feel remorse over the cutting remark, but he had no strength left. He'd lost too much blood. Any moment now he would find himself falling back into hell. But he'd be damned if he'd let that bastard Ba'al take the woman he loved from him. Jack had always known he was a stubborn man, but he seemed to have met his match in the Goa'uld. The parasite could probably go on like this forever. But Jack was beginning to wonder just how much longer he could last. Sighing, he felt his eyes drift shut. Without even the satisfaction of a sound of exasperation from his interrogator, Jack felt wind rush past his face before an abrupt jolt slammed him back into the darkness once more. _

With a cry, Daniel sat up in bed, sweat mingling with the tears that trailed down his face. "My god," he rasped as he sucked in deep breaths against bouts of nausea. "Oh my god…" It couldn't be real. He wouldn't permit himself to even contemplate the possibility.

And yet…

Dreams had been a scourge to him of late. Ever since his return to SG-1. Reliving his memories of Bra'tac and Ry'ac in captivity had been horrible. Knowing he'd been there, had watched them suffer, and had done nothing about it. But for as good of friends as the two Jaffa had become, Jack… Well, Jack was family. An annoying older brother that apparently lived for the sole purpose of pissing him off. Or so it seemed at times. But he had seen Jack at the man's very worst, and vice versa. Detox from sarcophagus over-use had been hell, but Jack had been there every step of the way. Though now it seemed, if the dream was to be believed, Jack had gone through the very same hell – with torture by Ba'al as an opening act. And he hadn't done a damn thing to stop it.

Running to the bathroom, Daniel heaved what he felt was a week's worth of food down the toilet. Gasping, he ran a shaking hand across his brow before vomiting again. His heart began to race, and he could hear his pulse pounding in his ears as his breathing sped up to match it. _Panic attack_, the very small still-controlled part of his mind said. _What do I do?_ He began to rock back and forth as he hugged his knees. "Oh god," he said as more tears began to fall. "Oh god." In his memory he watched Jack falling into the sarcophagus again and again; various stains and tears were added to his clothing each time. "Jack…" He wrapped his arms tightly across his stomach. "God, Jack – I'm so sorry…" Daniel was sobbing now, his body wracked and heaving. "I'm sorry," he cried to the ceiling.

He wasn't entirely surprised when it answered.

"Daniel…" Relief warred with anger in his heart. He wasn't sure he wanted to talk to her. Not now. He swallowed hard. "I'll leave, if that's what you truly want." And there it was again – that unnerving ability she had to see into his very soul. It made him wonder if she'd still been able to do that after he'd joined her in that higher plane of existence.

Sighing, Daniel stopped rocking – though his hands stayed firmly where they were. He had a feeling there was still something left in his stomach, and he was determined it should stay put. "Is this why you took them from me? My memories?"

He heard her chuckle. "You were always very blunt with the others, Daniel. I don't think they knew what to do with you." He waited in silence for her to answer as he watched her float down to rest beside him. She was shrouded with the same ethereal beauty he saw in her the first time they met, and it nearly made him laugh to watch such an angelical presence kneel beside a toilet. "The removal of your memories was… complicated, Daniel."

"Why can't you ever just give me a straight answer?" he asked, doing his best to curb his frustration.

"Because to me the world is not painted in black and white."

"It must not be, if I had to leave my friend behind to suffer."

"You did what you could, Daniel. Perhaps too much."

He looked up at her. "I don't understand. What did I do? From what I can remember, I just sat around watching Ba'al torture Jack."

Her face softened as she looked at him. "Your actions at that time were not as much as you would have wished, yet they were perhaps more than they should have been. Enough to earn you a reprimand from the Others."

"Did that play a part in my being returned?"

"I wish I could answer all of your questions. But as you should very well know…"

"Your hands are tied."

Oma smiled. "In a manner of speaking, very much so." She reached one hand out to gently touch his face. "Do not let these memories trouble you, Daniel. Remember, 'If you immediately know the candle light is fire' –"

"Then the meal was cooked long ago," he finished with a shake of his head. "Someday, I hope you'll explain what that means."

"The day you understand it, Daniel, is the day you'll no longer need a teacher." She looked into his eyes again. "Do not lose faith, Daniel. You are, and always have been, a better person than you give yourself credit for. There is much that _you _can teach _me_." He swallowed heavily. "That is what drew you to my notice." She seemed to peer into his very soul. "When the time is right, I hope I am ready to learn." And with that last, cryptic remark, her atoms seemed to spread themselves to the wind, and she disappeared.

Daniel took a deep breath, the spell of her presence broken. Using the edge of his bathtub for leverage, he made his way unsteadily to his feet. Step by agonizing step, he returned to his room and collapsed on the bed. The dream was beginning to fade, though he could still hear the echoes of his friend's screams. Closing his eyes tightly, he thrust his memory back to life on Abydos – recalling in vivid detail the work he used to do. Farming, mining, brick making. Manual labor had always served to take his mind off thoughts of Earth. For no matter how much Abydos had been home, he'd still felt occasional bouts of homesickness for his good old terra firma. And Kleenex. He'd missed that like crazy.

Letting the sounds and smells of the village wash over him, Daniel drifted off into the first pleasant dream he'd had in weeks.

* * *

Random, I know. This wrote itself, though, so I can't explain where it came from!

Hope you enjoyed. Please leave a review if you did.


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